


Tuchariin Okull/Ice Flight Gothic

by Xemriss



Category: Flight Rising, Original Work
Genre: Flight Rising Gothic, Tuchariin Okull
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xemriss/pseuds/Xemriss





	Tuchariin Okull/Ice Flight Gothic

The glacier’s vast, intimidating path greets you. After taking it in, you look behind yourself to thank the guards for their help with directions. They’re not there. It’s a dead end.

No matter which way you turn, the sun’s reflection on the snow blinds you. You close your eyes to stop them from watering. A voice behind you whispers, “ _Do not mourn_.  _You will see them soon_.”

You’ve been wandering the wilderness for hours, lost and exhausted and frustrated and alone. A naked, snow-covered branch creaks as it offers itself to you. As you reach for it, your sigh of relief’s abruptly cut off.

The wind wails, long and mournful. When you look at the trees, they’re completely still.

The glacier’s inner walls undulates as if it’s alive. You can’t find the exit despite there only being two directions to choose from. As panic bubbles up, you push against one wall when it gets too close for comfort. The ice doesn’t budge. When you blink, you realize your back’s been pressed against the opposite wall. Nothing’s moved.

Heavy snow falls throughout the afternoon and night. When you peek outside the next morning, there’s no discernible difference.

A lone pine stands tall. You can’t recall when it was last touched by snow. You feel drawn to it. You feel it watching.

If you cry outside the day after a storm passes, the tears evaporate before they reach your chin.

At night, the glacier’s ceiling stares back at you.

You’re freezing. The fire refuses to warm you. Desperate, you stand in the middle of its flames. It dies out. You’re freezing and it’s dark.

You’ve stopped shivering hours ago. Everything’s numb. You lay down for a nap. When you wake, you feel warmer than before. You laugh in relief. You don’t see your breath.

If you hum, the forest hums back. If you yell for help, it laughs.

You find a pile of oddly-shaped ice. You keep a handful of pieces for yourself. When the hunger becomes too much, you eat them. It doesn’t help.

Something unseen silently beckons you. When you get close to the source it changes direction. You can’t remember when you last stopped to rest. You’re afraid that if you do, you’ll miss your chance to find out who or what it is.

You stare down at your feet as you walk; watch them make deep depressions in the snow, hear the snow crunch. When you glance behind yourself to see the trail of footprints, there aren’t any.

You hear a dull pounding while walking along the glacier’s path. You follow it as far as you can go, to the nearest wall, and curiously press your ear against it. You hear a heartbeat. It’s soothing.


End file.
